


Livin' in the Future

by Tarash



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Crack, If you don't like it go and blame Caitlin Moran, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarash/pseuds/Tarash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jeremy mentioned his sexual fantasy about a certain photo of a young, sexy, shirtless Bruce Springsteen to his co-hosts, he didn't suspect his third co-host would bend the timestream to bring that young, sexy, shirtless Bruce Springsteen to the here and now.</p><p>This piece of fanfiction is dedicated to Caitlin Moran, who has only now discovered that Top Gear slashfic exists, about several years after everyone else did. Enjoy, and I hope you think of Jeremy Clarkson and Bruce Springsteen shagging every time you look at that picture :).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Livin' in the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All the events in this fanfiction are obviously completely made up.

“If you had to be bummed by one guy, who would it be?” Jeremy asked.

James exchanged a weary glance with Richard. “Not this one again?”

“Yes, this one again,” Jeremy told him. “I’m bored, and we’ve already discussed which cars we’d do given the chance, and –”

“You wouldn’t shut up about the Bugatti Veyron for ten minutes, James and I never even got a word in!” Richard said, sounding a little indignant.

Jeremy smirked. “Oh? Any cars you want to do up the exhaust, Hammond? Apart from the usual suspect, of course.”

Richard sighed. “Do tell us, Jeremy, which guy do you want to be bummed by?”

“A young Bruce Springsteen.”

James and Richard exchanged another glance, more surprised this time. “Oh?” James asked.

Jeremy nodded decisively. “Mm, yes. Have you ever seen that picture of a young Bruce Springsteen, his hair all tousled like he’s just come out of bed, trousers not done up properly, the treasure trail leading to his cock, clearly outlined - and I would like to point out that it looks pretty bloody impressive,” he explained, sighing. “It’s like the morning after you’ve been shagged rotten by Bruce Springsteen, and he’s woken up early to make you breakfast in bed, and you come down and he’s surprised and embarrassed that you caught him making breakfast.”

“What?” James asked.

Jeremy sighed dreamily again. “Yes, a young Bruce Springsteen from the early 1980s, that’s who could bum me.”

Richard stared at him. “That’s… a surprisingly detailed fantasy, Jeremy.”

“I know, I’ve thought about it a lot,” Jeremy said, and started scrolling through his phone to find the picture of a young Bruce Springsteen. “See? Doesn’t it look exactly like how I described it?”

Richard was too afraid to look at first, but then looked at the screen and tilted his head. “I suppose?”

“Come off it,” James said, leaning in. “That’s clearly a late 1970s Bruce Springsteen.”

Jeremy was too busy staring lustily at the picture. “Mm, makes you want to lick his hipbones…”

Richard and James exchanged another weary glance. “D’you wanna go outside and look at some cars before he has a crisis?” Richard suggested.

“Yes,” James said. “Let’s.”

While James and Richard left, the Stig was sitting in the cupboard above the sink. He had listened to Jeremy’s fantasy about the young Bruce Springsteen from the late 1970s or early 1980s, and since the Stig liked Jeremy, he decided to do him a massive favour.

Jeremy sighed over his phone once more, but decided it was best to put it away and get back to work. He was filled with enough unrequited lust for one day.

But just then, a young shirtless Bruce Springsteen came in, his trousers not quite done up. “Erm,” he said, “where am I?”

The Stig, still hidden in his cupboard, felt pleased. It was difficult to pull someone from their own timestream and into the Stig’s timestream, but he had managed it. He hoped Jeremy was pleased.

“Oh my God,” Jeremy said. “Oh my. Oh my God.”

Bruce smiled in his charming yet seductive manner. “Hello, I’m Bruce.” He held out his hand.

“I know,” Jeremy said, staring as he shook hands. “Uhm. I’m Jeremy.”

Bruce nodded. “So, any idea where I am or why I’m here?”

Jeremy could only gaze at Bruce Springsteen. “Well, either you’ve time-travelled or I’ve time-travelled or…” Time travel. Of course. The Stig. Jeremy turned to look at the kitchen cupboard the Stig liked to sit in. “Or I’m a very lucky and grateful person.”

“I’m sure you are,” Bruce said, quietly amused by it all. “That still doesn’t tell me where I am or why I’m here.”

“Never mind that,” said Jeremy in what he hoped was a suave manner. “Why don’t we, y’know.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What?” Bruce asked.

“Do some bumming. While you’re here.”

Bruce Springsteen ran a hand through his tousled hair, looked Jeremy up and down, and nodded. “Yeah, why not?”

Things got hot and heavy and explicit, and meanwhile, the Stig was still in the cupboard, listening to the muffled moans and gasps of pleasure. Perhaps, he mused to himself, he should’ve left the room before he pulled sexy young Bruce Springsteen in this timeline, because now he was stuck listening to the sounds of vigorous sixty-nining and even more vigorous bumming. 

He shifted to make himself more comfortable, and decided to focus on happy thoughts of his favourite Lamborghini.


End file.
